


locating spell

by OverTheMoonShine



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Dealing with grief and loss, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, Shine Forever, all in, dramarama, hyunghyuk are soul-mates across all universes ofc they are, inspired by Find You, slight angst with a happy ending, suggestions of suicide, time and space traveller Hyungwon gets to go all throughout time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22733650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverTheMoonShine/pseuds/OverTheMoonShine
Summary: Time must have sent him back to this moment, in order to change what had happened.So Hyungwon takes off, sprinting as hard as he can after the car. He’s never ran as fast as this before in his life, but he’s never had any reason to do so until this very moment.(or: Hyungwon is lost in time and can't find his way home. A memory of a boy with a smile warm enough to reverse black-holes back into stars seems to hold the answer.)
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon/Lee Minhyuk
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	locating spell

Between the two of them, Minhyuk is a bloodhound when it comes to finding whatever Hyungwon seems to have misplaced. It doesn't help, Hyungwon supposes, that it's hard-wired in his DNA to never carry around a bag with him, so that eventually, most of what he’s hauling about in his hands ends up migrating into Minhyuk’s bag, much to the latter’s consternation ( _“You're stunting my growth!”_ he’s protested on multiple occasions, “ _This is why I’ll never be as tall as you.”_

 _“You're taller than Ki, that's enough,”_ Hyungwon would point out, entirely unfazed _._

_“Everyone is taller than Ki, that doesn't count.”_

_“I’m literally right here, you beanpole assholes.”_ ).

No matter how thoroughly Hyungwon may have searched, lifting up pillows, ducking under the sofa, flipping his bedsheets inside out, Minhyuk has this supernatural ability to waltz into the room and immediately point out where Hyungwon’s belongings are, “You’re honestly blind, Wonnie. Your keys are literally just on your desk.”

“I was looking there right before you came in.”

Minhyuk only laughs, and picks the set of keys off his desk, jangling it in front of Hyungwon, “What would you do without me?”

-

When The Jump happens, Hyungwon doesn’t quite realise what’s gone on at first. 

He remembers holding onto his father’s watch. It’s heavy in his hands, and the physical reminder of his father once being _here_ with him is enough to make Hyungwon have to stifle back a sob, careful that he doesn’t want the others sleeping in the living room to hear. He’s in the study, remembers turning the knobs on the watch.

Then - 

He opens his eyes to bright sunshine and feels the scratchy surface of tarmac under his thin cotton shirt. Sitting up, he blinks once, twice, and looks around. Did he pass out? Was he still dreaming? 

How did he end up here, out by the side of a random road, when he was clearly at home just a few moments ago? The trees are a blazing Autumn orange, which is odd because it’s still too early in Summer for the leaves to turn orange. Yet, as he registers the scenes around him (there’s something startling familiar about where he is, but he can’t quite put his finger on it - a memory that’s darting just out of reach), he’s hit by a gust of wind that’s definitely too chilly for July. 

Where is he?

The watch is warm in his hands. Perhaps it’s his imagination, but it feels like it’s humming in his fingers, like a car that’s just started up, ready to go. 

“Hyungwon-ah!” calls a voice from behind him, and Hyungwon spins around so fast he’s sure he has whiplash from the moment. It -

It can’t be real.

Because right there, in front of his eyes, is his mother, real and solid, just a couple of feet away. She’s smiling that gentle smile of hers, and she’s waving at someone just out of sight, calling again, “Hyungwon-ah! Don’t run off without your eomma.”

Then it hits him, why this place is so familiar. It’s his childhood home in Gwangju, the apartment where he’d grown up in, before his family had moved to Seoul for his father’s work. And sure enough, as he turns to see who his mother is addressing, he spots a small boy, swaddled in a giant scarf, jumping around in a pile of fiery red and orange leaves. He can’t see the boy from here, but he can hear the boy’s laughter, can imagine his eyes scrunched up in joy.

Autumn always was his favourite season.

And just as he opens his mouth, wants to say something to his mother, _I miss you so much it hurts, please come back to me_ , he feels a jerk through his entire being, as if the air around him has suddenly turned into a vacuum, and he vanishes.

-

Time stretches out in front of him, like warm taffy, sticky and cloyingly sweet. He’s hanging in what feels like liquid amber, his moments weighted down by the sanctity of each second, minute, hour that has ever existed.

_I want to go home, I want to see them again._

In front of his eyes, Hyungwon can see all the moments that happened and then didn’t happen flicker and race by, these tiny seconds that build up an entire person’s life time. 

_I want them to be safe. Please let me try to save them._

And when Time has decided that he’s in the right spot, it pulls him out again, and throws him back into the present - wherever, whenever that present Time has chosen for him.

_I miss them so much._

-

It has to be a joke.

Hyungwon opens his eyes to The Night, and sees his past self enter his parents car, waving goodbye to Minhyuk and the rest of the gang, from across the street. Minhyuk’s smile is so bright, it knocks the breath from Hyungwon’s chest, but he has a goal to fulfill, he knows the mission he has to accomplish.

Time must have sent him back to this moment, in order to change what had happened.

So Hyungwon takes off, sprinting as hard as he can after the car. He’s never ran as fast as this before in his life, but he’s never had any reason to do so until this very moment. The non-existent muscles in his extremely unathletic legs are screaming for relief, but he just ignores them and pushes himself to go faster.

He has to reach the car somehow, he knows he can. This is what he’s meant to do, this must be why he’s back here.

This -

The crash sounds louder from the outside. His family car looks tiny and crumpled against the lorry that had collided with them.

And the only thing Hyungwon is grateful for is that Time whisks him away, before he sees the car go up in flames.

-

Once again, Hyungwon finds himself weightless, suspended in that slim margin between the past, present and future. It’s both the realms of _could have beens_ and _already have happeneds,_ and the stream of moments is enough for him to lose his mind if he stares too long at any one second.

He doesn’t understand what’s happening, but he knows one thing to be true.

_I need to go back._

Space around him ripples, as if in reaction to this one thought that keeps him sane, even as memories and moments of lifetimes he doesn’t recall, of what feels like the collective experience of the entire Mankind, whip past him.

_I have to change it._

He latches onto this thought, feels his entire being molding around the purpose, and allows Time to bring him to this moment once again. 

-

This time, Hyungwon doesn’t stay to watch his friends send him off. He’ll never be fast enough to catch up if his parents begin driving first, so he starts off in the direction of the accident.

It feels like only seconds later that he sees his father’s car turn the corner towards the street, the bright headlights cutting through the darkness of the night. Hyungwon waves his hands frantically as the lights illuminate him. Words are just tearing their way out of his throat, he’s almost delirious, shouting, “Stop, don’t go! It’s dangerous there! You’re going to get hurt, please, just stop!”

He catches a glimpse of his parents’ confused faces. The car slows down in speed but doesn’t stop, continues driving forward, towards the site of the accident.

His father turns back to look at past Hyungwon in the back-seat, turns to look at Hyungwon on the street, still waving and screaming for them to stop. Realisation dawns on his father’s face, as if he understands why there are two Hyungwons at this moment in time. 

But it’s too late.

Perhaps, if Hyungwon had been there a second earlier, perhaps if he hadn’t slowed them, if his father had continued at the same speed.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

The undecided moment of _perhaps_ meets the finality of the present, and Hyungwon watches, as the lorry comes barrelling down, like a told truth that can never be unsaid, no matter how much it hurts, straight into the car, once again.

-

Hyungwon doesn’t have the luxury to laugh at how he has no time to feel horrified, not even with all the Time in the world flashing before him.

_Take me back._

He wills it like a command, and Time thankfully doesn’t disagree.

-

The third time he fails, Time is cruel enough to let him stay longer. 

It was foolish to think that he would have been fast enough to reach the car. And even if he did, what could he have done? It’s only now that the significance of his previous attempt is starting to hit him, and it feels like his chest is collapsing in on him.

Once more, the family car is overturned in front of him, one wheel still spinning endlessly as if still wanting to run on the hot tarmac below. Apart from a dented bumper, the lorry appears unscathed. He can barely make out the driver behind the wheel, whose face is scrunched up in horror, as if unable to comprehend the scene before him.

Then, there’s movement from the car.

Hyungwon’s heart almost flies out of his throat as he starts towards the car. _They’re alive, they made it this time_ , the thought takes up so much space in his head that he can barely breathe.

But he looks again, and all the strength in his legs go out.

It’s only past Hyungwon, struggling to get out of the car. From the broken window, past Hyungwon reaches out, one hand first. Agonisingly slow, he tries to pull himself out of the car, and Hyungwon knows he should help, he should go over and pull his past self out, but he’s frozen.

A distance away, all Hyungwon can do is watch - remembering the stinging pain of each movement, the sharp scrape of the road against his torn skin. 

Only when past Hyungwon makes it out of the car, does Time take him away again.

-

There’s no holding back this time.

Hyungwon lets the grief crash over him, as Time washes over him, in never-ending waves with crests higher than the last.

_It’s not fair that I’m the only one left._

And so, Time grants him his wish.

-

For the first moment, Hyungwon is disoriented, fully expecting to find himself back on that night, chasing after a car that’s destined to crash. This doesn’t seem like a memory, not one that he can remember that is.

He’s standing in front of a clean looking building, and for lack of anything better to do, he opens the door.

Shelves of urns greet him - it’s a columbarium.

There’s a sense of suspicion niggling at the back of his mind, as he walks past the different rows, looking for something, someone, but he’s not too sure. His legs just take action on their own, making long strides so quick that each row whizzes by, _all the different stories these lives could have told._

Then finally, at one of the last rows, he sees a familiar figure.

Minhyuk.

Hyungwon stops in his tracks. A million emotions are running through him so rapidly his skin is buzzing, but Minhyuk hasn’t noticed him yet. His eyes are fixed on an urn in front of him, and his shoulders are moving up and down in an odd rhythmic motion as if he’s -

He’s crying silently. The tear tracks down his face catch the light of the afternoon sun, shining bright.

The suspicion turns into foreboding and Hyungwon walks as quietly as he can, to see the urn Minhyuk’s attention is fixed on. 

Once, a long while back, Hyungwon had to take a passport photograph for a business internship he was applying for. It hadn’t even been at a company he really wanted to work in, but Minhyuk had badgered him into submitting an application, claiming that, _you have to earn money somehow to afford my lifestyle in the future. I’m expecting a new gaming console every year, at the very least._

For the photo, he’d worn a dark blue blazer and a white business shirt with a collar so stiff he could imagine getting a paper-cut on it. The photographer was an ahjussi who clearly thought that he had more hair than he did in reality, with how carefully his comb-over was parted. With a clearly false friendly smile, he told Hyungwon to _stop smiling and look professional!_ leading to an incredibly awkward photograph. 

It’s this photograph that’s staring back at him. 

With how much his mum had cooed over the passport photograph, gushing how smart and handsome her son had grown up to become, he knows that his mum must have chosen this photograph. There’s no one else in the world who would have chosen such a truly unfortunate photograph otherwise.

He takes a quick glance at the urns beside his. They’re empty, which means…

They made it. In this universe, this version of the events, his parents had survived.

But he hadn’t.

Hyungwon lets out a deep breath, as the full force of this realisation sinks in.

At the sound of this, Minhyuk spins around. 

Compared to the Minhyuk he knows, this Minhyuk is thin and pale, with dark rings around his eyes, and all Hyungwon wants to do is take him in his arms and tell him he’s sorry for how things have gone in this timeline. Yet, he doesn’t know what else he can say to this Minhyuk, this person who technically isn’t his and has never been his.

“Hyungwo -” Minhyuk starts, his face ashen.

But before Minhyuk can say anything more - this Minhyuk who looks like he’s been through hell and back, whose eyes have lost that light that he fell in love with the first time he looked into them - Time plucks Hyungwon from the present and sends him whirling back through eternity.

-

Maybe it’s just a few seconds, maybe it’s days, or months, Hyungwon doesn’t know how long he lets himself float through Time. It’s easy enough to just not think about where he’s been from nor what he’s seen, especially with Time playing out in front of him, a movie that continues without any end in sight.

He sees the births of infants across the globe, all red-faced and crying as they’re pushed out into the world; sees deaths, so many, so varied that it makes his own, makes his parents’ seem like a tiny thing in comparison. 

What does it matter, the loss of a few human lives, in the grand scheme of it all? Time is a cold encompassing being, and Hyungwon is happy to remain within its embrace, numb and passive. 

There’s so much in the world out there, so much more than just what his existence embodies. How foolish, how proud to think that Time would have stopped for anyone. That he could have changed anything, when Time is not so much a stream as the white rapids, and he, just a tiny pebble, swept away in the currents.

Maybe for a moment, he thinks, it’s easier to just let go than do anything else, before he causes more harm than he can imagine. After all, it isn’t necessarily uncomfortable where he is, he doesn’t want for anything, doesn’t need food nor water. He could stay here and just observe, watch all of Mankind and how they spend the currency of their lives.

Yet - 

It’s the onslaught of moments that cloudies the thoughts in Hyungwon’s mind. Within the silt and dust and murk all these memories that have never belonged to him have stirred up, there’s something tugging at the corner of his mind. A homing beacon, weak in its signal, trying to call him back.

Back to - ?

A fragment of a memory flashes in his mind, of a smile so bright that he can feel its warmth, even thick in the midst of Time. It lights a fickle flame within his being, a tiny thing trying to fight off the cold that has settled into his bones. If he tries hard enough, he thinks it could be possible to distinguish what’s his and what isn’t. His memories have the slightest shimmer to them, glistening the slightest way, as if hoping he’d notice them.

And this smile, even so briefly, filled him with so much light and warmth, this has to have belonged to him.

 _Take me there_ , he wills, the words taking a moment to string together, a muscle that hasn’t been worked in too long a while. Yet the moment he organises them in his head, he knows them to be true, _Bring me to the sun._

-

Hyungwon opens his eyes to a world draped in dull grey. Frowning, he looks around. Surrounding him are short buildings that probably had once been white, but are now smudged with dirt and grime. This isn’t somewhere that he knows.

Even so, he starts walking. No one seems to be around in this town. Judging from the state of the infrastructure around, Hyungwon isn’t surprised. Wherever he’s in, this place must have seen better days.

Somehow, he finds himself on what seems to be the outskirts of the small town. There’s a dilapidated wooden shed up ahead, a small rickety structure in a field of weeds and daffodils. On his wrist, the watch hums so strongly that his hand’s almost lifted up by the momentum. Seems like as good a place to start poking around as any. He treads carefully through the field, and is about to enter when he hears movement on the inside.

“Hey, talk to me,” says a husky voice, so familiar it teases the edge of his memory but Hyungwon can’t place it. He creeps around the periphery of the shed. There’s a small opening where the wooden planks aren’t aligned well together leaving a gap, and he peeks in.

There are two boys sitting on the floor in the shed. One has shockingly white hair, which bounces as he scoots over to the other boy. 

Their faces are hidden at this angle, but there’s no mistaking who the other boy is, when he answers, in that mumble of his, “It’s nothing you should worry about.”

It’s him. Him in the shed, and him out here, watching this conversation between this other him and the other boy unfold.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” the nameless boy spits out, vehement in his indignation. He knows this boy, he’s heard this specific inflection of speech before. That indignant scoff that somehow still conveys the speaker’s warm care. As Hyungwon tries to find another gap with a better angle, he hears the boy continue, his tone softening, “Just let me in.”

“I don’t want you to look at me differently,” other Hyungwon says.

Peering through another gap, this one higher than the first, Hyungwon can see more of the scene. The two boys are sitting so close that their knees are touching, and the white-haired boy asks, “What if I want to?”

Other Hyungwon looks up so sharply at the white-haired boy that Hyungwon can almost feel his neck crack, “What?”

“You know how I feel about you,” the boy says firmly, like a fact that will never go unchallenged.

 _You know I like you_ , says the ghost of a memory, a fragment of a flashback that feels so real Hyungwon is sure (or _almost_ sure) belongs to him. A boy with shining, teasing eyes, laughter so unrestrainedly carefree, it could reverse black-holes into stars. 

Other Hyungwon’s reply jerks him back into the present, or the past, or the whatever time that they may be in, “I think you should find someone else. Someone bet-”

“If you say someone better, I’m gonna scream so loud.”

“But - “ other Hyungwon starts, turning to face the boy better. As he turns, Hyungwon spies a dark purple smudge under his eye, like a bruise that’s just starting to form. He blinks, it must be a trick of the light.

“You,” the boy says. There’s no hesitation in the way he reaches over to take both of other Hyungwon’s hands in his own, how he leans in to press his forehead against other Hyungwon’s, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Whatever you may be thinking, you’ll always be more than good enough for me.”

Other Hyungwon looks up at him. Even from the distance, there’s no doubting the affection in his gaze. _You know I like you too_ , a memory echoes from the depths of Hyungwon’s mind, recalls another time, when he’s linked pinkies with a boy, so very much like this one.

A boy whose name he can’t recall, but whose love runs through his veins, as true as the seconds that make up a minute. And maybe, this realisation slowly taking root in Hyungwon, his name is the incantation that would take him home.

“Mi -” other Hyungwon starts, and Hyungwon leans in, presses himself against the weak wooden wall, trying to hear more.

But Time is the ultimate wet blanket. 

Before other Hyungwon can even finish the first syllable, Time whisks Hyungwon away, more violently than it needs to. And in his wake, two boys (too, too young for the troubles they have already faced) scramble to their feet in a panic, wondering what made the shed shake like it did, hands still tightly held, like they’d never let go.

-

Once again, back in the thick soup of Time, Hyungwon floats, seemingly drifting without any direction. Yet, no matter how enticing it may be to lose his mind to the endless stream of memories, he fights to hold onto the scene that he’d just witnessed.

It’s not the right memory, not his.

But it’s still him, a version of Hyungwon that never was born in Gwangju, never grew up in the 21st century, never was in a car-crash, never lost his parents... Still, it’s a him that existed somewhere, and amongst the infinite permutation of events that could happen, a him that met this boy.

This boy with the sunshine warmth that seems like he could be the answer to it all.

 _One more time,_ Hyungwon calls out. His memory is slipping as the roar of the past, present and future grows louder in his ears. The image of the boy in his mind fading like a polaroid in reverse, but he balls up his will, throws it up to Time as hard as he can, _Take me there._

-

Time deposits him in the front of a cafe. Through the glass entrance, it looks like a beautiful place, modern European in its decor. Hyungwon notes the name of the cafe with a sense of irony, _Traveller_ \- one could say many things about Time, but one certainly couldn’t say that Time didn’t have a sense of humour.

A bell hanging above the door jingles when he steps into the cafe, and he takes a seat at a table near the entrance. From the lack of patrons around, it could be late in the afternoon on a weekday. Hyungwon turns his wrist to check the time on his watch, then pauses. Of all the things that his watch can do, it can’t actually tell you the time.

Like he said, Time definitely had a sense of humour.

“Hi, welcome to Traveller.” It’s him, the boy with the golden smile. “May I know if you’d like anything to drink?”

Hyungwon blinks once, twice. He feels the tips of his ears heat up a little, even as he can’t seem to take his eyes off the boy. After what feels like an eternity, he ends up with the very eloquent reply, “Um.”

The boy doesn’t even falter and simply produces a menu. “This may help,” he says with a wink, and Hyungwon’s heart stutters.

But there’s a need to remain normal, as much as normal can be, given his circumstances. Out of politeness, Hyungwon accepts the menu, although acutely aware of the fact that he doesn’t have any money in his pocket. It takes effort, more than he would have thought, to take his eyes off the waiter in front of him, to look at the menu. 

_What’s your name?_ he recites to himself, it wouldn’t be that hard to just ask. A perfectly normal question that strangers asked each other all the time. _I think I’ve seen you somewhere around before. What’s your -_

“This may sound odd,” the boy’s voice breaks through Hyungwon’s monologue. “I promise this isn’t a pick-up line, but you seem really familiar.”

Hyungwon looks back up at the boy. He’s leaning in, closer than he probably needs to, curious. There’s something terrifying paralysing about the way he’s shifted his entire attention towards Hyungwon, studying him like a puzzle he’s trying to figure out, and all Hyungwon manages is to stammer out a, “O - oh.”

“Have we met before? I feel like this isn’t the first time we’ve spoken,” he continues, as cheery as his first greeting, unperturbed by Hyungwon’s mono-syllabic answers. He makes a movement as if to pull out the chair opposite Hyungwon to sit down, then stops himself mid-motion. 

“I - I can’t remember.” Hyungwon clears his throat almost guiltily, reaching to scratch at the back of his ear (it’s bright red, he’s sure).

The movement catches the boy’s eye. Hyungwon can almost hear the _flick_ of the light-bulb in his head, as realisation dawns on him. Almost as if he’s in a daze, his hand reaches towards the watch, “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”

It’d be a lie to say no. But it’d be a lie to say yes either. Time had brought him here for a reason, and perhaps, he’s about to find out why.

Hyungwon’s silence seems to wind him up, or acts as confirmation to his suspicions. Either way, he’s gushing now, the words practically flying out, “And you sat at this table. The exact same table, you can’t have forgotten that. I brought you a latte and we chatted for a while. Wow, did you really forget me? I heard it’s almost impossible to forget my face.”

“But it’s you. You’re the one who left _this_ behind,” the boy scrambles to pull something out of his pocket. It’s a watch, much bulkier than Hyungwon’s, but a watch nonetheless. Its face is cracked. Hyungwon frowns, recalling how thick the glass is. It would have taken a lot of force to create that amount of damage. “You have to be the one who gave it to me. I don’t know what else to do.”

The boy takes in a breath, and asks, so quietly that Hyungwon almost misses it, “How do I fix it?” 

Up till this point, Hyungwon had been convinced that he’d been the only one whirling through time. But here, this boy looking at him with so much muted hope in his eyes, is proof that he wasn’t.

“Please,” the boy says, almost in a whisper. Underneath his words is an undercurrent of grief, one Hyungwon is too familiar with. The specific pain of losing someone you love leaves its fingerprints on those who have experienced it, weaving itself into their shadows so that it touches all that they do. He places the watch on the table, slides it across so that it touches Hyungwon’s fingertips. “I need to go back.”

“I’m sorry, I-” Hyungwon starts to say, but the boy’s watch grows hot at his touch. The watch hands are spinning rapidly, almost blurring together. Hyungwon snatches his hand away, as the watch heats up, almost molten. There’s a high-pitched whine, that climbs in volume. The sound is so piercing, thin shards of sound breaking through his skin, burrowing deep into his brain. 

Stumbling, the boy holds his hands up to his ears, eyes scrunched up in pain. Hyungwon throws his hand out, and the boy mirrors his movement. His hand catches Hyungwon’s, their fingers tangling. It doesn’t make the pain any better, but it helps, just the slightest bit. For the briefest of moments, he remembers how warm and safe it always is, holding this hand, being with the sunshine boy. 

But the memory is drowned out by the shrill of the watch, screaming for his attention. The boy tightens his grip around Hyungwon’s hand, His fingernails dig deep into his palms, yet the physical pain barely compares to the sonic agony in his mind. And just when Hyungwon thinks he’s about to pass out from the sound, the watch goes silent for one dramatic second.

Then it disappears, a wave of energy rippling out from around it.

“Wha -” the boy starts to say, clearly shocked. He doesn’t get the chance to finish because the hands on Hyungwon’s watch start to turn too.

Already feeling his body tingling with the energy of travel, Hyungwon only manages to get out a “I’m sorry.” before he blinks out of existence too. The only memory of his being there is the lingering warmth on the boy’s hands, and the ringing headache of the past trying its best to never be caught.

-

There’s something different about Time this time he’s pulled back in. The seconds don’t blur together as easily anymore, and the memories don’t play as loud as they used to. It’s easier for him to separate out those that are his, and those that belong to everyone else.

He’s getting close, he can feel it. 

Then - _Hyungwon, where are you?_

Hyungwon spins around, or makes an attempt to -- movement is a tricky thing when you’re floating through Time. The question comes again, reverbing through the dense memories all around, _Hyungwon, I’m coming._

 _Stay in one place, I keep missing you,_ it says, that husky sunshine voice, reaching out to him across all of time. Even with the unimaginable distance between them, Hyungwon can feel the determination behind his words. _I’ll find you._

-

He doesn’t mean to get pulled to another place, yet Hyungwon ends up somewhere new. Maybe one could call him a seasoned traveller, now that he’s getting used to popping into new worlds he doesn’t recognise. This time, Time has brought him to a beautiful cliff-side.

But there’s no time to orientate himself nor appreciate the landscape around him, because the reason for his presence is immediately clear. 

Perched right at the edge of the cliff is a black-haired boy, looking down at the ocean waves crashing hard against the rock wall below. He’s standing so thoughtlessly at the edge that his intention is as clear as the bright blue sky above him.

Hyungwon rushes over. 

He shouldn’t be surprised, but he still is. It’s _him_ , the boy with the golden smile. Who now is standing just a foot-step away from a very definite death, who has an eerily blank look on his face, as if his soul has long left his person.

Careful not to startle him, Hyungwon reaches out slowly, his hand hovering just a few centimeters away from the boy’s shoulder, “Hey. Are you okay?” It’s a ridiculous question, considering the circumstances, but his mouth is dry, his mind scrambled by the unexpectedness of the situation.

The boy turns to face Hyungwon, taking his eyes off the dark waters below, “Just leave me here.”

“That doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Hyungwon says, trying to sound teasing although he’s sure it falls flat.

“Didn’t think you’d care.”

“Of course I would,” the ferocity of his statement surprises even him. But he knows the words to be true. Even though they might as well be complete strangers at the moment, Hyungwon knows, can feel it sing at the core of his person, that he’d rather be here, next to any version of this boy, than anywhere else in any other world. “Come over, to me.”

The boy hesitates, his eyes darting to the water below once again. Hyungwon keeps his hand there, outstretched. It takes five seconds, maybe less, for the boy to nod to himself, then take Hyungwon’s hand. He pauses, and only when he takes his first step away from the edge, does Hyungwon release a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding.

They remain that way, his hand in Hyungwon’s, for a few moments. With the silence (the sound only broken by the waves below), it feels like an eternity. Finally, the boy says, looking at Hyungwon closely, “You’re not Hyungwon, are you?”

He takes a moment to collect himself, choosing his words carefully, “Maybe not the one you know.”

“Yea I figured,” there’s a sad smile on the boy’s face when he answers. He shrugs and lets go of Hyungwon’s hand, then continues so casually that it almost hurts, “Real Hyungwon wouldn’t have cared.”

“Excuse me?” Hyungwon asks more incredulously than anything else. The sting of the implication that he’s a _fake_ Hyungwon barely registers in comparison to the thought that this boy believes Hyungwon would ever toss him aside.

The boy looks up at the clouds above them. The weather is too beautiful for a conversation like this. Days like these demand picnics under the sun and strolls along the park, hand in hand with a person who holds your heart. Not conversations on top of cliff-tops with a stranger one could have loved, probably did love, in another life. 

“What would you do if I killed someone?” 

“You wha -”

“I killed our best friend,” the boy cuts in. His head is still tilted upwards towards the sky. Despite how blank his expression looks, his hands are shaking. “Could you ever forgive me for doing that?”

Best friend is a strange concept for a person who’s been moored in Time, but it sparks a memory. Of the two of them with another, shorter boy, sweetly delivering barbed insults to each other, laughing so hard together that their stomachs start to ache. 

Of the shorter boy urging him, _just tell him Won, it’s so obvious he feels the same way._ And after noticing Hyungwon’s hesitation, rolling his eyes and saying, _if you’re afraid of me feeling bad for becoming the third wheel, think again, I’m stating now that your future home has a room just for me._

“See, it’s a hard question to answer,” the boy says, misinterpreting Hyungwon’s silence as agreement. “I wouldn’t be able to either.”

“There’s no way you killed him,” Hyungwon interjects, shaking his head. “It’s impossible.”

“I was the one who crashed the car, didn’t I?” The boy laughs humourlessly. It’s an awful sound, thick guilt filling in the hollow of the boy’s usually vibrant laughter. Hyungwon’s heart breaks at his pain, then shatters, when he continues, the emotion too raw in his question, “Why him, instead of me?”

Hyungwon stills. 

A memory of him, his memory. _I’ll trade anything,_ he had screamed at the doctors after he’d woken up in the hospital, _just bring them back. You can’t do this, you can’t let me be the only person left._

“I shouldn’t be the one here,” the boy says, his voice now shaking as hard as his hands. Vulnerability on full display, but what’s there to hide in front of a stranger from another plane? “Not me.”

There are no words that can be said, and Hyungwon does the only thing he can think of: he reaches over to the boy, and pulls him into the tightest hug he can muster. The boy freezes for a moment, then sinks into his embrace. He buries his face into the crook of Hyungwon’s shoulder, his arms already coming up to circle Hyungwon’s waist, like muscle memory, and sobs.

He sobs and sobs, so much so that the Hyungwon’s sure his shirt would be soaked by the end of it, but it doesn’t matter. He holds the boy tight, whispering a string of assurances into his ear. “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’ll never be your fault.”

When the boy finally stops, Hyungwon loosens his hold around the boy, but keeps his arms around the boy’s shoulders. He’s puffy-eyed and red-nosed, still sniffling, but at least he’s looking Hyungwon in the eyes. Hyungwon says, putting in as much sincerity as he can in each word, “You didn’t mean for the accident to happen.”

“Then tell me, why does it feel like his blood is on my hands?” the boy asks, almost in a whisper.

The question hits Hyungwon like a lorry smashing into a family car.

If he hadn’t told his parents to turn down that street, if he hadn’t asked them to pick him up. There are so many permutations that could have happened, a million universes out there where his parents are still alive and well. But the same number of universes where he could have never been born or where he’s dead, and his parents are the ones drifting through time instead.

“Sometimes,” he starts, trying to keep his tone as even as possible. All of what he’s witnessed drifting through Time, how small each individual human life seems in the face of the larger stream of Time. Yet, no matter how seemingly insignificant one lifespan is, how much _impact_ it could still make. He thinks of the boy with the golden smile, the one who’s brought him so much joy in his universe, who’s still giving him hope, even when they’re separated by an impossible distance. “Sometimes, we have to accept what’s happened. There’s no way we can live if we keep looking back at the past.”

The boy says nothing, only sniffles a little.

“It seems crazy to think that there’ll be a day when you’ll be over this pain,” Hyungwon continues, each word a dawning revelation. “Even so, one day, I promise, you’ll see the sun again.”

“That’s cheesy,” the boy says. It’s a weak attempt to scoff, but one nevertheless, and Hyungwon smiles. The boy mirrors this, although it looks like a rusty movement he hasn’t done in a while, “But I’ll take your word for it.”

“Great,” Hyungwon answers.

And this time, when Time takes him away from this universe, he leaves with a smile, and a promise, _you’ll see the sun again._

_I’ll see you soon._

-

That’s when he remembers his name, _Minhyuk._ It’s so simple, a fundamental law of nature just waiting to be discovered.

And he chants it like a mantra in his heart, imagines it forming a golden shield around his person, bringing him to where he knows he’s meant to be.

 _Wait for me,_ Hyungwon hears, a faint voice that can barely be discerned under the chaos of Time. But he’s listening, his heart is wide open to receive the message, _I’m coming, wait for me._

-

The first thing Hyungwon registers is the sound of the ocean. Is he still by the cliff-side?

And as if following this thought, he feels the light touch of heat on his face, gentle and careful, bringing him back into consciousness. He opens his eyes slowly, and realises he’s at a beach. The sand underneath him is cool, and he stands up carefully, brushing the grains off his clothes.

It’s then that he notices that the sand is light green. In the distance, the Sun is shining, a merry pink. Against the pale purple sky, memories flicker across the fluffy yellow clouds. Even playing faintly, Hyungwon can make out enough to recognise these memories as his own. Truly his own, not some alternative version of him, living another parallel life he’s not supposed to have ever seen.

The car crash - but the agony of loss is not as fresh as before.

Time has always taken him to a place that had existed, never a make-belief location like this. Yet, despite the oddity of the landscape, there’s no apprehension in his heart. His body is tingling, as if in anticipation of something. 

And if anything, with all the time in the world at his hands, Time has taught him to be patient. So he waits, whiles the seconds away by appreciating that the simple logic of waves coming onto the shore still holds in this strange place he’s in. 

Sooner rather than later, _something_ ripples across the fabric of the beach, as if announcing an arrival, and Hyungwon looks up.

It doesn’t feel real (but what is real anymore?) when Minhyuk appears, bright-eyed, black-haired, in that blue-and-grey jacket he had been wearing on that day Hyungwon had disappeared. On his wrist, is a watch, clunkier than the one Hyungwon has. 

Hyungwon squints, he’s been tricked before. 

But there’s no mistaking it, that bright beam that breaks across Minhyuk’s face, like the Sun shepherding the arrival of dawn.

This is _his_ Minhyuk.

Hyungwon takes a step towards him, then another and another, sprints into Minhyuk’s arms, which are already open, always wide open for him. He flings himself into them, just like the waves around them crashing into the sandy beach they’re on. Joy and disbelief war for space in his mind, but he’s done with doubting, instead says, breathlessly, “You’re actually, you’re here.”

“I told you, I’ll find you,” Minhyuk says, his tone as soft as the smile on his face. Sure, Hyungwon’s travelled through all of time, seen so many things, but no scenery can compare to the beauty of _his_ sun shining in front of him at this moment. “Wherever, whenever you are.”

Even then, there’s still a sting of guilt that pricks at Hyungwon’s heart, the sense that all of this needn’t have happened in the first place. He tries to pull away to speak but Minhyuk’s holding him so tight he can’t move, so he mumbles into the top of Minhyuk’s head, “I’m sorry I caused this. I don’t know how to go back.”

Beneath him, Minhyuk shakes his head, and tilts his head upwards to face Hyungwon, “It’s alright, we’ll fix it together. I’m here now.”

“Mmm.”

“I did say I could find anything you lost,” Minhyuk teases. He leans back a little to get a better view of Hyungwon, though keeps his arms still wrapped around the latter’s waist. There’s a mischievous smile lifting the corners of his lips upwards - one which both simultaneously melts Hyungwon’s heart but puts him on guard because he knows what’s coming next. “And since you lost yourself, I guess that makes you the biggest loser.”

“Okay, I deserve that.”

“And you can’t do anything without me,” Minhyuk sing-songs lightly, but Hyungwon can pick out a heaviness underneath his cheer.

He shakes his head, “I can’t.”

“And you’re stuck with me forever, or I’ll break your watch.”

“You can break it right now then,” Hyungwon offers up his wrist where the watch is strapped on. It doesn’t feel as heavy as it used to, and he can feel it purring quietly, as if waiting to be called into action.

Minhyuk pulls a face, then pulls himself back into Hyungwon’s embrace, so that his reply is mumbled, squashed against where he’s buried his face in Hyungwong’s shoulder, “Gross.”

“You’re the one who found me after all.”

"That’s right,” Minhyuk says, tightening his grip around Hyungwon’s waist. This, _this_ , is a moment that Hyungwon could live in forever, after all that he’s been through, all that he’s seen. This moment would keep him anchored for whenever, wherever they may go next. 

Minhyuk pauses, then smiles that sunshine smile of his that'll always be Hyungwon's compass, “And I’m never going to let you go.”

**Author's Note:**

> not gonna lie, i'd started on this fic just a few days after Find You, and (for obvious reasons) couldn't bring myself to continue working on it until recently. another fun fact - the starting of this fic (and the title) is remnants of a Young Avengers fic i'd wanted to write years and years ago, but that never actually saw the light of day, so here it is instead.
> 
> i'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/legofroggo) or [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/legofroggo), come say hi!
> 
> thanks for reading and have a great day y'all <:


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